Costume Play
by ClockworkRabbit
Summary: The Winchester boys are working a job... at a costume party? How are they going to get through this one? -set in S2; Finished!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the hosts/additional attendees of the party. I do not own Dean or Sam Winchester or _Supernatural_ itself; this includes any of the supporting characters such as Ash.**

* * *

Five minutes and Dean Winchester was already regretting taking this job from Ash's files. He felt his pride quickly slip from his grip as he stepped out of the dressing room and into the line of sight of everyone in the immediate vicinity.

Sam looked up at his brother and instantly broke into a smile.

"This is ridiculous! Costume parties should be against the law outside of Halloween!" Dean hissed as Sam got up to examine his costume.

"I don't know, Dean… you look pretty sexy in a pirate costume… sexier than Johnny Depp…" Sam replied very lowly, trying not to laugh as he completed his circle around the older Winchester brother.

Dean gave Sam his nastiest look, but then something behind his brother caught his eye. "I'm sure you'd look pretty sexy in _that_," he said, nodding behind Sam.

Sam turned around and his heart nearly stopped. He stood face-to-face with his personal nightmare.

"I'm sure you'd make a great clown," Dean said, biting back a laugh while patting Sam's shoulder.

"That's not funny, Dean…" Sam said, turning away from the clown mannequin.

"And neither is me wearing a pirate outfit," Dean replied, shrugging.

Sam rolled his eyes. "I already have my costume…" he mumbled, grabbing a bag off the chair next to the one he was sitting in.

"What? A French maid dress?" Dean asked with a smirk, winking at Sam.

Sam glared at him. "No. You'll see. Go take that off so we can pay for it and go…" he replied, nodding toward the dressing room.

Dean immediately took off towards the dressing room.

xOx

Dean parked the Impala just outside the door to their motel room and quickly got out of the car, grabbing the bag and hiding the "Party Co." logo on the front.

Sam followed casually in pursuit with his bag, closing the motel room door and locking it.

"Alright, Sammy, show me whatcha got," Dean said, tossing his bag on his single bed.

"You'll see it tomorrow night at the party…" Sam replied, putting his costume bag in his laptop bag.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever…" He plopped down on his bed and turned on the TV. He closed his eyes to relax, dozing off to the sound of music videos on VH1.

It was a few hours later, about nine o'clock in the evening, when Dean woke up again. He felt something heavy against the left side of his body, and turned his head to see a sleeping Sam lying next to him.

Dean sighed, gently shaking Sam's arm that was draped across his abdomen.

"Dude, Sam, wake up…" Dean whispered. A couple of more shakes and he finally woke his younger brother up.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Sam, eyes half-open, asked hoarsely, stretching a bit.

"You're in my bed," Dean replied, a little louder than a whisper.

Sam looked at him, dazed. "Yeah… and…?"

"And, I told you you weren't sleeping with me until this job was done. I got us two singles _because _I'm upset with you for even taking this job," Dean replied, a little irate.

Sam sighed, rolling his eyes. "Can't you just get over it for _one _night? I miss your warmth…"

Dean rubbed his forehead. He, too, missed feeling Sam's body lying close to his, but he was still a little upset that he was dragged into _this _job of all the ones in Ash's files.

He snapped back to reality when he felt Sam nuzzle his neck.

"Okay, no." Dean sat up, getting off the bed. "No sex either."

"Not even angry sex?" Sam asked, a little bit of a pout on his lips.

"No. Now get into your own bed," Dean replied, hand on hip. His other hand was gesturing toward Sam's single bed to the left of his.

Sam sighed, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed to get up.

Dean watched the shorts-clad Sam crawl into his bed, then he himself layed back down on his, burying his face in his pillow.

(TBC)

* * *

**I'm sorry the first chapter is _really_ short, but I didn't expect to make this into an actual story with multiple chapters. I promise Chapter Two will be a little longer. Please R&R?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but Roy, Jake, and the additional attendees of the party. I do not own Dean or Sam Winchester or _Supernatural_ itself; this includes any of the supporting characters such as Ash.**

**--**

The next night came quick--well, for Dean anyway, who slept in until one in the afternoon--and the brothers were loading their handguns with shells filled with rock salt, as well as sharpening their iron and silver short knives.

"You sure we're going to be able to get in with these?" Dean asked, thumbing the safety on his favorite handgun.

"Yeah. The hosts are friends of Ash's so they know we're going to be carrying things to get rid of their spirit. Besides, our costumes make it easy to pass these off as just accessories," Sam replied, fiddling with some sort of wired device.

"So that's why their party is a costume party--so it wouldn't be suspicious..." Dean cocked an eyebrow. "Why would this spirit only come out during parties anyway?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe something happened to him while he was at a party there. The bad things is, even though we know who the spirit is, I dug up some info and found he was cremated."

Dean nearly broke the gun he was toying with. "Then how are we supposed to put his spirit to rest?"

Sam held up their father's leather journal. "Dad has a spell in here to put restless spirits to rest when there is no body to salt and burn."

"Of course," Dean replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Their father's journal was like a puzzle, so it would, of course, be hard work trying to find something really specific in it. He just wished they would've found this spell earlier for several other jobs--would've been less hell on them.

"By the way, what _is_ your costume, Sammy?" Dean asked, remembering he hadn't seen it yet.

"Secret service agent."

"..._what_?"

"You know, so we can use these ear buds and little microphones to keep in touch with each other. Ash said the job site is a three-story mansion in rural Tulsa," Sam explained, holding up the little wired device he was tweaking earlier.

Dean tried to bite back a smart remark, because he knew it was a pretty good idea, but he just had to say something. "I hate to say it, Sam, but I really don't think pirates wore ear buds and microphones back then."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yours are black, so they won't be noticed. Here." He handed Dean his set.

Dean examined it before nodding. "Okay, that's good. That way, we can investigate the top two floors without having to be together to do it."

"Right." Sam checked his watch. "It's a quarter till six now, and the party starts at seven. It's a least an hour and a half or so to get to Tulsa since we're on the edge of Oklahoma City. We better get our costumes on so we can get going."

Dean nodded, getting up from the chair.

xOx

"I feel pretty stupid wearing this thing while driving..." Dean mumbled, pulling out onto the road.

"Just ignore it. Did you put guns in your hip and boot holsters?" Sam asked, copying the resting spell onto a small notepad sheet.

"Yes, and I have an iron knife in my inside cape pocket," Dean replied, accelerating up to five miles over the speed limit.

"Good. I have a small handgun in my inside jacket pocket and a silver knife in my boot," Sam said, setting up his microphone-and-ear bud set on his tuxedo jacket lapel.

"That's it?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing at his younger brother.

"Yeah... besides, I have the spell with me, and that's basically a weapon," Sam replied, holding up the folded notepad sheet before slipping it into the breast pocket of his tux jacket.

"Fair enough... so if I see him before you, I'll just shoot him with some rock salt and wait for you to come say the spell?"

"Yup. That's what I'm thinking..." Sam replied, checking his watch again.

"Awesome..." Dean muttered.

xOx

When Dean pulled up to the mansion, the two could already hear the sound of Metallica blaring through the speakers inside.

Dean grinned. "At least they have good taste in music..." he said as he parked the Impala between two cars in the vast open space beside the rural mansion.

"They _are_ Ash's friends..." Sam replied, watching a couple dressed as an angel and a devil get out of their car.

"True," Dean agreed, getting out of the Impala. "Let's do this."

xOx

Dean and Sam swam through the crowd of people to find the hosts of the party, keeping an eye out for anything unusual.

They found the two by the refreshments table, chugging some kind of drink from red plastic cups. One was wearing a cowboy get-up and the other was dressed as a magician.

Dean cleared his throat, causing the two to put the cups down and look at him and Sam.

"Hi. Dean and Sam Winchester. We're Ash's friends," Dean introduced themselves.

"Oh yeah! You're here to solve our little problem! I'm Roy," the one in the cowboy costume replied, shaking Dean's and Sam's hands.

"And I'm Jake," the one dressed as a magician said, also shaking their hands.

"Which one is which?" Roy asked, looking back and forth between the brothers.

"I'm Sam and this is Dean," Sam clarified, motioning toward Dean while saying his name.

"Ah. Okay," Roy and Jake said simultaneously, nodding their heads a few times.

"So," Dean said after exchanging glances with Sam, "let's talk in private about your problem."

"Sure," Jake agreed, leading them into the kitchen.

"How long has this spirit been bothering you?" Sam asked, watching Roy pour some coffee into four white mugs. He then wondered why anyone would put coffee in a white mug.

"About a year now," Roy replied, placing the mugs in front of the three.

"And you two are...?" Dean looked back and forth between the two.

"Brothers. Just like you two are," Jake replied, taking his tophat off, revealing his spikey, dark red hair.

Dean nodded, looking at Sam. "So what exactly does this spirit do every time you guys have a party?"

"Steals car keys, knocks various things off tables and the walls--it _always _knocks the refreshments off the table--and it sometimes lets the air out of some of the guests' car tires," Roy started explaining.

"It cuts the lights sometimes, locks doors, trips people..." Jake went on, trying to think of other things the spirit does.

Dean and Sam exchanged looks again.

"Alright, we need to get something from the trunk real quick and we'll come and see what this spirit wants," Sam said, getting up from the seat he was in.

"Okie dokie," Roy replied with a smile, watching Dean get up.

The Winchester brothers made their way through the crowd of partiers to the front door.

"I think Roy was looking a little too friendly at me with that smile," Dean said, taking the keys out of his pocket.

Sam chuckled, making Dean glare at him before opening the trunk.

"I think I know what this spirit's trying to do..." Dean said, grabbing his homemade EMF reader and closing and locking the trunk. He started up to the front door before Sam could reply.

(TBC)

* * *

**So this chapter was a little longer than the first one, but I'm still trying to think of ideas and figuring out how uploading chapters works. Forgive me. Please R&R?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but Roy, Jake, the spirit, and the additional attendees of the party. I do not own Dean or Sam Winchester or **_**Supernatural**_** itself; this includes any of the supporting characters such as Ash.**

--

After a few minutes of dancing and acting like they were there for the party, Dean insisted on being the first one to go upstairs to check around.

When he was sure he was out of eyeshot of everyone, Dean turned on his microphone set and took out his EMF reader.

"Sam, can you hear me?" he asked into the small microphone.

"_Yeah, I can hear you,"_ came Sam's tiny voice through the earbud along with the blare of the party's music.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Get away from the speaker, Sam," he said, stopping momentarily to shake his head.

The music seemed to die down a bit and then Sam's tiny voice sounded through the earbud again. "Sorry. Was talking to one of the female partiers. She's a frequent visitor—one of Roy and Jake's cousins."

Dean felt a ping of jealousy cut through to his heart. "Oh…" he said quietly, unsure if Sam had heard him.

"Find anything?" Sam asked, his voice a little lower.

"Not yet…" Dean replied slowly, after kicking himself to stop feeling jealous. _He's probably doing it for information on the job…_he forced himself to believe.

"_I'm coming up after you,"_ Sam's voice sounded into his ear.

Dean turned and saw Sam coming up the steps and into the hallway.

"You take this floor, and I'll head up to the third floor," Dean said, nodding to the staircase.

Sam nodded as Dean headed up the stairs.

Dean carefully pulled the handgun out of his inside cape pocket, watching the EMF reader as it lit up to the third light then back down to the first light.

"_Dean, you read me?"_

"Copy that. What's up?"

"_There's nothing on this floor or the first floor."_

"Sounds about right…"

"_What do you mean?"_

"This spirit comes out the last couple of hours of the party, right?"

"_Right… so you think it'd stay on the third floor with the main bedrooms until the end of the party?"_

"Exactly…"

The EMF reader lit up like a Christmas tree instantly when Dean entered the bedroom next to the two bedrooms the hosts stayed in.

"Sam, the EMF reader's going crazy. Get up here," Dean said into the small microphone.

"_Roger that. I'm coming up now."_

Dean turned the EMF reader off and thumbed off the safety of the handgun he held up with his right hand.

Sam came running into the room a couple of moments later.

"Find what the EMF was going crazy over?" he asked, pulling out his handgun from his inside tux jacket pocket.

"Not yet… You have the spell, right?" Dean looked over at Sam, lowering his gun.

Sam nodded. "We need this thing to manifest first before we say it, though."

"Yeah, I know. I just wanted to make sure you—" Dean was cut off as he was thrown through the air against the wall.

"I guess the spirit doesn't like us hunting it," Sam said, pulling out the sheet of notepad paper that had the spell on it.

"Since when does _any _spirit like us hunting it?" Dean snapped, standing up shakily. He grabbed the gun off the floor on his way up.

It was quiet for a moment while the brothers looked around, guns raised.

Then they heard what Dean swore to be the creepiest sound and looked toward the closet.

The closet door slowly opened with a horror movie-sounding creak, and then stopped halfway.

Dean and Sam exchanged glances, then pointed their guns toward the closet, inching their way toward it.

Dean slowly outstretched a hand to the knob, counted to three, and then yanked the closet door open all the way.

An empty closet stared back at them.

The two both raised an eyebrow and frowned.

"What? No one jumping out at us? Nothing popping out of clothes? What the hell?" Dean asked with disappointment, walking into the small, bare closet.

Sam squeezed in beside him, looking up toward the clothes rail, then at Dean.

The closet door then slammed shut, making both Winchester brothers jump with a start and turn their heads toward the door.

Dean struggled to turn his body against Sam to face the closet door. He tried turning and jiggling the door knob, but the spirit had been able to lock it.

"Now that's just freakin' swell!" he exclaimed, smacking the door with the side of his fist.

Sam sighed. "That went well…"

"_Please _tell me you brought a flashlight with you…" Dean said, trying to get his eyes adjusted to the darkness to see Sam.

Sam frisked his pockets for at least a small flashlight, but could not find one.

"No…" he said quietly. "I figured we'd have enough light to see so I didn't bring one in…"

"Great…" Dean muttered, feeling his way against the walls for any sort of opening. "Dammit," he grunted when he didn't find anything, "I thought these old mansions were supposed to have secret passageways…"

"You watch too many movies, Dean… Besides, the party just started, so we won't have to worry about the spirit doing anything for a while," Sam said.

Dean felt Sam move a little closer to his body.

"And look at another bright side—this isn't so bad a place to be stuck in with each other…" Sam whispered, pushing Dean's pirate hat off his head and brushing his lips against his.

Dean felt himself getting hot suddenly, thankful it was dark so Sam wouldn't notice the blush coloring Dean's cheeks.

Sam pushed his lips against Dean's completely, untying the pirate's cape and pushing it off Dean's shoulders, pulling his older brother in closer to him.

Dean pushed Sam against the closet wall, taking control, and rocked their hips together.

"God, Dean…" Sam moaned into Dean's mouth when the older Winchester pushed his tongue into his mouth.

Dean snapped back to reality and pulled away from his brother.

"Don't stop…" Sam panted, tugging at Dean's tie-up shirt.

"No, Sammy… not now…" Dean whispered, trying to pull away from Sam's kisses.

"Why not?" Sam whispered back, pinning Dean against the opposite wall.

Dean stared at him through the darkness of the closet. He raised his eyebrow when he noticed Sam's breath fanning his face.

"Sam…"

"What?"

"What have you been drinking?"

Sam looked at him (tried to, at least) in the dark with a questioning gaze. "One or two cups of that punch downstairs… why?"

"Son of a bitch…" Dean whispered to himself. "Sam, we're not in here because the spirit saw that we had guns, we're in here because you've had some alcohol-tampered punch."

Sam cocked his head to the side. "It didn't taste like it had alcohol in it, and I really don't think I'm drunk…"

"But I smell it on your breath, and I tasted it when we were kissing. Just a faint taste, though, since I didn't notice until now…" Dean replied, picking up his hat and cape. "And now that I think about it, you are a bit drunk, because of three reasons."

Sam cocked his eyebrow again as Dean put on his hat and cape. "What three reasons would those be?"

"The way you came onto me is the first reason. You _know _I think it's lame to say something like 'it isn't such a bad place to be stuck in with together' and then get on to physical contact. The second reason is your kisses. They're usually neat and sincere and always gentle. They were sloppy and hard this time, not to mention a bit forceful," Dean explained.

"Well what's reason number three?" Sam asked, after thinking what Dean said sounded right.

"You're swaying a bit," Dean replied bluntly.

"Oh." Sam tried to stand straight. "I seriously don't feel drunk though."

"It's because you're not full-on drunk yet," Dean replied in a matter-of-fact voice. He lowered himself to the floor, putting the bottoms of his boots against the closet door, right next to each other.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked a bit perplexed.

"Getting us outta this closet. Help me out, wouldja? Dean replied.

Sam lowered himself carefully to the floor as well, his boots aligned with Dean's.

"On the count to three, kick, alright?" Dean instructed.

"Yeah."

"One…" Dean started.

"Two…" Sam whispered.

"Three!" the two exclaimed, kicking the door at the same time.

The door rattled in its frame, but didn't open.

"Again. One," Dean said.

"Two."

"Three!"

The door rattled harder under the force of the second pair of kicks, but still didn't open.

"Dammit… again. One," Dean panted.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Two."

"Three!"

The door finally flew open, smacking the wall next to it with a very hard force.

"Third time's a charm, eh?" Dean said, standing up and out of the closet, helping Sam to his feet. "Good team work, little brother." He patted Sam's back.

"Uh-huh…" Sam replied, stretching. "So tell me why we were stuck in there because I'm supposedly drunk."

Dean pulled out his handgun again. "This spirit is trying to do some good. He's doing a sloppy job of it, but he's still trying. Why do you think he steals car keys, locks doors, and lets air out of car tires?"

Sam started to piece everything together. "So you're saying he's trying to stop drunk driving?"

"Exactly."

"But I'm not the one who drives—you are."

"I think this spirit only sees black or white. You're drunk, he'll try to stop you from leaving. You're not, he'll leave you alone. I bet if you looked at his cause of death, he was in a car crash," Dean replied.

"And he was the one drunk… so he's trying to keep people from making the same mistake he did." Sam nodded. "Makes sense."

"And guess what?" Dean looked at Sam with a grin.

Sam suddenly felt nervous. "What…?"

"You're going to be bait, baby boy," Dean replied, pulling Sam out of the room.

Sam just knew that would be coming.

(TBC)

--

**Hope you somewhat liked this chapter, and for you Wincest enthusiasts, I hoped you liked that little closet teaser. I already have almost half of chapter four written, and I'll hint to you right now that it will have heavier Wincest in it, but for now: R&R this chapter?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but Roy, Jake, the spirit, and the additional attendees of the party. I do not own Dean or Sam Winchester or **_**Supernatural**_** itself; this includes any of the supporting characters such as Ash.**

--

Sam felt he was going to pass out from drinking too much of that tampered punch, but Dean handed him another cup.

"Dean, I don't think I can—hic—drink anymore…" Sam said hoarsely, hiccupping again afterwards.

"Just one more, Sammy, and that's it," Dean insisted, gesturing to him with the cup.

Sam looked at him to see if he'd change his mind, but his older brother shook his head. Sam sighed.

"Drink up," Dean said, patting Sam's back.

"If I die from alcohol poisoning, you'll be the first one I'm coming after," Sam threatened, taking a swig of the punch.

"Yeah yeah." Dean waved him off, then got a huge grin on his face when "Renegade" by the Styx started playing. "You know, this is like our theme song…"

"_Your _theme song, not ours," Sam corrected, taking a breath from chugging half the cup of punch. He hiccupped again.

"Meh… true," Dean agreed.

"You should dance to this song…" Sam suggested with a giggle.

Dean looked at him with an irate glare. "I'm only letting that go because you're drunk."

Sam smiled like a child at him.

Dean rolled his eyes. "I might need some of that punch right now…" he muttered, but knew he was the one who had to drive back to Oklahoma City to their motel.

When he turned back to Sam, he seemed to have disappeared. "Sam?" he called, looking around.

Someone let out a "Hell yeah!" and Dean turned around to see Sam in the middle of a circle in the crowd, dancing with moves he'd never seen before.

"Oh good Lord…" Dean mumbled, smacking his forehead. He pushed through the crowd of people and grabbed Sam by the back of his tux jacket. "What the hell, dude? I mean, seriously—what the hell?" he whispered, beyond irritated.

"What? I was just dancing…" Sam said defensively, holding up his hands, the cup of punch clutched in his left.

"Yeah, with half a cup of punch in your hand," Dean snapped. "And I swear to God you've ruined that song for me for a least a year or two!"

"Well, _sorry, _but this was _your _idea," Sam argued back, poking Dean in the chest. "You kept handing me cup after cup."

Dean forced himself to not punch his brother right then and there. Instead, he took the cup gingerly from Sam's hand. "Then you ain't finishing this cup," he said, pushing past people to enter the kitchen.

"Dean…!" Sam whined as Dean dumped the rest of the punch in the sink, then tossed the cup in the trash.

Dean rested a hand on the counter, the other on his hip. "Stop acting like a child, Sam. We're working a case. I know you're drunk, but you gotta act serious about this."

"But I am…" Sam said with a pout. He pouted in silence for a minute, then said," Let's go back upstairs…"

Dean checked his watch. A quarter till ten. "Good idea. The party ends in two hours, so we should be up there when the spirit manifests." He grabbed Sam's arm, pulling him towards the stairs.

xOx

The Winchester brothers sat on the bed of the room they had been locked in the closet in, the EMF reader constantly lighting up all the way. The door was shut.

They had been sitting there for ten minutes now, but nothing was happening. The only sound in the room was the EMF reader going crazy.

"Dean, it's not going to manifest…" Sam quietly said, breaking the silence between the two.

"It will…" Dean replied.

The EMF reader quieted down suddenly. Both brothers looked down at it and saw that only the first light was lit up.

"That's weird…" Sam said, making Dean nod in agreement.

"He must've moved downstairs…" Dean said, moving to get up.

Sam grabbed his arm. "Wait, Dean…" he whispered.

Dean looked at him. "Sam, we gotta get him before someone gets hurt."

"That's the _thing,_" Sam replied. "He _doesn't _want to hurt _anyone_—he wants to _save _them."

Dean sighed. "Jake and Roy asked us to get rid of this spirit. And that's what we're going to do."

Sam shook his head. "No. I have a better idea. We'll tell Jake and Roy to stop serving alcohol at their parties, and then maybe the spirit will leave everyone alone."

Dean wanted to argue, but once again his baby brother had come up with another great idea.

"Fine, you win…" he mumbled, turning off the EMF reader and putting it into his cape's inside pocket. "At least that'll save your drunk ass."

Sam smiled. "Thank you." He paused, taking his microphone set off and putting it in his pocket. "…Dean? Can I ask you for another favor?"

Dean sighed. "You're going to ask me anyway, so why the hell not?"  
Sam smirked. He moved to sit on Dean's lap, facing him, and whispered seductively, "I want you to make love to me…"

Dean stared at him, then tried to get up. "Sam, you've already tried this when we were locked in that closet. My answer is still no."

Sam took Dean's pirate hat off and tossed it to the side, taking his microphone set off second, putting it in his pocket with his set.

"Please, Dean? I haven't had you inside of me for a week now, and I miss the feel. We usually do it two nights a week at least… so, come on—put your anger and irritation behind you and take me," Sam begged, grinding his hips into Dean's.

Dean groaned at the feel, deciding whether or not to say 'yes,' watching Sam untie his pirate cape and pushing it off his shoulders for the second time that night.

He couldn't stay mad at Sammy.

But the job wasn't finished, and that was supposed to be their first priority right now. Dean had to compromise with himself.

He hated doing that.

Sam began to untie his shirt, trailing kisses up and down his neck.

Dean wanted to smack himself for his decision—Sam was doing one helluva job turning him on—but he forced himself to think of their current location and the kind of case they were working.

"Sammy…"

"Hm?"

Dean bit back the moan wanting to escape his throat caused by the special attention his brother was giving to his ear.

"Can you wait two and a half hours…?"

Sam stopped everything he was doing and looked up at Dean. As soon as he did, something made of glass shattered on the back of his head, knocking him out.

"Sam…? Sammy?" Dean asked, panic rising in his voice as Sam's weight forced him to lay back on the bed. He looked up and saw a man with another empty beer bottle clutched in his hand.

It only took a moment for Dean to realize that this was the spirit they were supposed to be hunting.

The spirit flickered in and out, then smiled, as if he were satisfied that he had smashed an empty bottle against someone's head.

Dean knew why he had done it, but it still didn't keep him from feeling pissed off that the spirit physically hurt his baby brother. He felt around under Sam to find his tux pocket, and pulled out the little slip of notebook paper that had the spell on it.

"I don't care what you're trying to do, but hurting my brother in the process is where I draw the line…" Dean growled, unfolding the sheet of paper.

The spirit tilted his head, wondering what Dean was doing.

Dean started reading. "'Your present tense has come and past, this current attempt will be your last…'"

The spirit began flickering faster, confusion contorting his face as he examined himself.

Dean kept reading. "'…now is the time to leave this place, never again will you show your face.'"

Light illuminated the spirit, and he looked at Dean with a look of pleading and confusion. In a minute he was completely gone, for good.

For a second, Dean nearly felt guilt, but it passed quickly. His father had made him into a soldier—a true hunter—and he didn't usually feel guilty for the things he hunted.

Dean looked down and saw that Sam was still unconscious, and he checked to make sure his head wasn't bleeding in the back. It wasn't, which made Dean breathe a sigh of relief. He gently rolled his younger brother off him to put on his cape and to retrieve his hat for the second time that night.

After loading Sam onto his back, Dean took one last look around the bedroom, then headed out the door to the staircase.

xOx

Dean found Roy and Jake in the kitchen, downing more of what Dean was pretty sure was that alcoholic punch in the living room, and cleared his throat to get their attention. He shifted Sam's position on his back a little when the two looked over at him.

"What happened to Sam, Dean?" Roy asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

"Ahh… he passed out, but don't worry; he'll be fine. He's survived worse," Dean replied, shrugging a little.

"What happened to the spirit?" Jake asked after the two nodded.

"He's taken care of. He won't be haunting you anymore."

"Good," Roy and Jake said simultaneously, both sounding relieved.

"Well, we oughta get going back to Oklahoma City, considering…" Dean said, motioning to Sam on his back with his head.

"You're welcome to stay here the night so you won't be on the road so late," Roy offered, smiling. We have plenty of rooms.

Dean smiled back (which he almost regretted doing since he suspected Roy of trying to hit on him), but shook his head. "Thanks, but Sam might freak out if he woke up in a different bed than he had this morning." It was only a half-lie, considering he basically promised Sammy some action later on.

He swore Roy looked a bit disappointed, but the cowboy-clad host nodded and led Dean to the front door, the living room's music louder than in the kitchen.

"Thank you so much for taking care of our problem," Jake said, following the two.

"Oh, no problem. It's what we do," Dean replied, another smile on his face. "I would shake your hands, but they're a little full right now…" He motioned Sam again, who hadn't come to yet, despite how loud the music was.

The three laughed.

"Well, you guys take care," Roy said, opening the door for Dean. "It was a real pleasure having you."  
"You too," Dean said, nodding once. "Ash has mine and Sam's numbers if you need us again."

"Gotcha," the two hosts said in chorus.

"See ya," Dean called over his shoulder, receiving the same response.

He walked to the Impala, careful to take the keys from his pocket without dropping on of Sam's legs. He was equally careful in unlocking the driver's side door and the back door next to it. He opened the back door and lowered Sam into the Impala, laying him across the backseat.

Dean closed the door and opened the driver's door, getting in to the car. He started the engine, smiled at the satisfying purr, then backed out of the field onto the road, heading back to Oklahoma's capitol.

(TBC)

--

**Agh, sorry, Wincest fans—I know I promised heavier Wincest in this chapter, but I didn't think it felt right to have it in this chapter, where I needed to put closure on the spirit. But! I **_**promise **_**promise I'll have a detailed, down-and-dirty lemon in the next chapter. Until then, R&R?**


	5. Author's Note

**Hey, my fellow "Costume Play" readers!**

**Sorry I have not uploaded a new chapter. It's just that I've been really busy with school and getting ready for Anime St. Louis and drawing things for people on my deviantART account... yada yada yada...  
**

**I'd just like you all to know that I have indeed started the fifth and final chapter and I have been in the mood to write more of it (in other words, no more writer's block—yay!). So fret not! It will be here in the near future! _I promise_.**

**Not only that, but there _is_ some hard-core Wincest in there like I promised. =) Yay!**

**See ya next chapter~**

**~LuckyStar923**

**P.S. I have the oneshot sequel to "Heat" finished too (in fact, that was finished **_**before**_** I did "Heat," LOL!) so be expecting that. It's called "Flipped" and is set in Season Three. =)  
**


	6. Chapter 5

**Finally! I have the last chapter done! I was in a romantic mood, so that's what reflected in my writing when I was writing this chapter. I hope it's to your liking, you "Wincesters." Haha. If not, I'm sorry. You may then smack me on the wrist if you wish.  
So, without further ado, I bring you the final chapter of "Costume Play."**

**

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By one o'clock in the morning, Dean could make out the neon sign of the motel the two were staying at.

Sam still hadn't come to yet, which started to make Dean worry, but then again it could have been because of all the alcohol in his body. Dean hoped that was the case.

Dean parked right out in front of their room and pulled the room keycard from his inside cape pocket. He got out of the Impala, shutting the door as quietly as he could, and opened the back door to get Sam out. He loaded his baby brother onto his back again, lightly tapping the door with his foot to shut it, and then walked up to their room door.

Dean hooked his elbow under Sam's left knee to slide the keycard into the slot and to tap the handle to open the door.

Walking quickly to Sam's bed, Dean set him down on it and shut the door. He walked back to Sam and put his ear to his chest to check to see if his heart was still beating. To Dean's relief, it was.

The older Winchester brother began finally taking off his pirate costume, changing into a pair of lounging pants and a plain white T-shirt. He put the costume in the "Party Co." bag and then put the EMF reader, his guns, knives, and holsters into his bag.

He walked over to Sam lying sprawled on his single bed, and fished for all the tools he had in his costume, putting them in Sam's bag. He then stripped Sam down to just his boxer shorts, paused briefly to wonder if he should take advantage of his sleeping brother, decided against it, then covered him up to the shoulders with the sheets.

Dean leaned in to kiss Sam's forehead and was surprised to find Sam looking dazingly up at him when he pulled away.

"Well, hey, Sleeping Beauty... 'bout time you woke me up," Dean whispered, a smirk on his face.

Sam immediately felt the pain in the back of his head and groaned, touching his hand to the lump that had formed there. "What happened...?" he asked hoarsely.

Dean sat down on the bed. "The spirit smashed an empty bottle on your head as punishment for being drunk. You fell unconscious and hadn't woken up till now. It's almost two in the morning."

"Oh... well, what happened to the spirit?" Sam asked, rubbing his wound to soothe the pain.

"I, uh... I put it to rest..." Dean replied, coughing.

Sam stopped tending to the lump on the back of his head and looked up at Dean. "You used the spell?" he asked, a touch of anger in his voice.

"I had no choice, Sammy! He physically _harmed _you!" Dean replied in his defense.

"I don't _care,_ Dean! You agreed to leave him be; I can't believe you went against your word!" Sam snapped, sitting up.

Dean threw his hands up in frustration, getting up and walking to his own single bed.

"Dean, don't you dare walk away from this conversation. You gave me your _word _that you wouldn't put this spirit to permanent rest!" Sam said, kicking the covers off of himself and standing to meet Dean's eyes despite their height difference. He was well aware of only wearing his boxer shorts.

"Yeah, well, that was before the damned thing broke a bottle against your skull! What was I supposed to do, Sammy? I couldn't let him hurt you again, so I used the spell!" Dean yelled back, coming close to Sam's face with a glare, huffing.

Sam huffed back, wanting to continue arguing, but found it difficult. He began breathing hard when he felt Dean's breath fanning his face. It was at that moment he remembered the last thing Dean said to him before falling unconscious.

_"Can you wait t_wo _and a half hours?"_

"Dean, you made another promise to me tonight..." Sam said in a low, husky tone.

Dean raised an eyebrow. He knew what promise his younger brother was referring to, but he decided to play dumb. "Oh, really? Because I only remember making you the one."

Sam glared. "Yes, Dean. You promised me I can finish what I tried to start two times already," he replied in a very stern voice.

"I don't remember that. Besides, you were drunk, so you coulda been just imagining it," Dean argued back, smirking to himself. He loved to get Sam a little peeved.

Sam sighed angrily. "Dean, I wasn't hallucinating. I was--" He was cut off when Dean crashed his lips on his. Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise, but responded to the kiss, wondering what Dean was trying to do.

Dean parted their lips, but stayed close to Sam's face as he spoke quietly.

"Relax, Sammy... I remember my second promise and I don't plan to break it," he said, pressing another kiss onto Sam's lips. He pushed him down onto the bed that his younger brother had slept in the past couple of nights, coming over him, placing another kiss onto the lips that were already starting to bruise from the force of Dean's kisses.

"Dean..." Sam gasped, arching his back as Dean rocked his hips into his.

Dean began kissing Sam's neck as he asked, "Am I going too fast?"

"N-no..." Sam suddenly pushed Dean off to his side, reversing their positions. "You're going too slow." He grinned.

Dean grinned back at him. "Well, sorry," he said sarcastically. He pulled Sam down into another kiss as Sam snaked his hand into Dean's shirt. He felt said hand run up his abdomen to his chest and Sam's fingers brushed against one of Dean's hard toffee-colored nipples.

This action caused Dean to gasp into Sam's open mouth, but he recovered by pushing his tongue into Sam's wet warmth. This, in turn, made Sam the one to make a gasping noise.

Dean sat up with Sam on his lap and Sam pulled Dean's T-shirt off, immediately returning to his lips.

The older Winchester pulled the younger closer to him, keeping him flush with his chest. He ran his fingertips up and down Sam's bare back, eagerly tasting Sam's open-mouth kisses, forgetting all about everything that had happened earlier that night.

Soon Dean was laying Sam down on the bed under the covers, both stripped of all their clothing. Dean came down in pursuit, finding Sam's lips with his own.

Sam responded by wrapping his arms around Dean's neck, pulling him in closer, needing his warmth.

Filling Sam's need immediately, Dean began pumping in and out of him at a slow and steady pace. Sam moved with him, bringing Dean deeper into him.

Sam instantly felt complete again as Dean thrusted harder into him.

Just when Dean was about to come inside Sam, he pulled out and began kissing Sam's neck.

"D-Dean...!" Sam gasped. "Please... keep going...!"

Dean trailed his kisses down Sam's chest, saying, "Not yet, Sammy..."

Sam moaned as he felt a pleasurable--teasing--bit near his groin. Arching his back as Dean eventually began running his tongue along his very excited member, Sam covered his mouth to keep from screaming Dean's name.

Before he knew it, Sam was on his knees, propped on his forearms, feeling lightheaded from Dean pounding hard into him and stroking his member with his hand.

Dean's chest was flush with Sam's back as he performed these two tasks, pressing light kisses onto the bare flesh of Sam's shoulder. Feeling he was close to coming, he whispered excitedly into Sam's ear, "Come for me, baby..."

Sam couldn't help but obey and soon both were riding out orgasms, moaning each other's names.

*

The next morning Dean found himself buried under the covers, clinging to Sam's backside, and Sam lying as close as possible to Dean.

Flipping the covers off his head, Dean was met with bright sunlight filling the room. He squinted in the brightness to look at the clock and read that it was eleven-twenty a.m.

Rubbing his eyes with his free hand (the other was under Sam), Dean noticed he and Sam had fallen asleep in Sam's single bed and their clothes were strewn about, especially on Dean's single bed.

Just then, Sam shifted and turned a bit to look up at Dean, eyes half open.

Dean looked back at him and gave him a small smile. "Morning, sunshine."

Sam smiled back, stretching a little. "Morning..." he replied, resting his head in the crook of Dean's neck.

"Guess you got what you wanted last night..." Dean said, resting his head against Sam's.

"Oh come on, Dean, you wanted it too," Sam replied, a smirk on his face.

"Yeah, okay, maybe," Dean chuckled.

Sam chuckled as well. He saw the "Party Co." bags on the table and asked, "When are we going to take those costumes back?"

Dean looked at the bags for a moment, then smiled. "They're non-refundable, remember?" he replied.

"Darn... well, I'm sure we'll find a good reason to use them again..." Sam said. He looked up at Dean with a grin.

Dean returned it with a bigger grin.

* * *

**There ya have it, there ya are. I hope it was okay; I mean, it was a bit short, ne? Oh well. At least you guys got what you wanted. I'm currently working on quite a few different fanfictions right now. Hope I have them up soon. Thanks for reading! Until then, please read and review this one! =)**


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